


Gentrification

by TheBoyJaxx



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - Diners, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Romance, Tragedy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBoyJaxx/pseuds/TheBoyJaxx
Summary: Rey moved half-way across the country to escape a life she no longer wanted to live. Kylo lives a life from which he cannot escape. A waitress and a property mogul fall in love. A tangled past becomes untangled.(This is a re-post/rewrite)





	1. The Giant

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read this before - thank you for coming back. I hope you like the rewrite. If you're new, welcome. For all, I hope you enjoy.

He looks kinda…lost.

From the very moment he bursts in through the great, olive-green door, dressed far too immaculately for a lazy Sunday morning. He keeps glancing back at the door and forth into the bustling diner, as if he’s trying to figure out whether he wants to go, or stay.

It’s Rey who first notices him.

He’s tall.

Like a giant.

She finds that amusing.

A quick scan towards the front counter - ol’ Maz is nowhere to be seen. But Rey can hear her, raising hell out back at Grumpy Unkar, the short order cook. Third time this morning – there’s no chance in Hell Rey’s going back there, so it’s also Rey who calls out to the Giant over the idle hum and clink-scrape of the late morning breakfast rush.

“Table for one, sweetie?”

Well, that seems to have settled it for him.

Realizing he’s been seen, the Giant stares at her for a just a moment, before he offers her a tight answering nod, and begins to tug the expensive-looking burgundy scarf tucked under his black overcoat - the only splash of color that he’s wearing.

Rey points him to ‘the shitty table’, the wobbly one that resists being leveled. It’s crammed in the corner, directly under an ancient, long-dead, wall-mounted television. She’s loathed to use it but, thanks to gentrification and yelp reviews, it happens to be the very last table in Maz’s Cantina. (Ol’ Maz didn’t like the sudden influx of wealthy-seeming, fashionable hipsters into Takodana - they were driving away her decidedly more rough-hewn regulars. ( _Brunch? What on this Great Green Earth is brunch?)_

“Take a seat - I’ll be right with you.”

Rey is on the move. She plucks up one of the few old, yellowed menus from between an oblivious lost-in-love couple and tucks it under her elbow. Then, with a glass of water in one hand, a pot of drip coffee ( _it’s the only kind of coffee we got, thank you very much_ ) in the other, she navigates her way between the crowded diners.

By now, he’s sitting hunched over in a chair, his long legs bent weirdly under the table to avoid knocking his knees. A giant in a clown car. Nevertheless, he murmurs a thank you when she flips the brown-rimmed coffee cup and pours out a splash of coffee. Rey offers him a brilliant smile, before setting the menu down in front of him.

“Have a look at the menu, sweetie, I’ll be back in a moment.”

“…Alright.”

She’s off again.

Table four and six needs another refill, table three is wondering if there might – perhaps - have anything else that’s vegan – you know – off the menu, table two wants to pay their check, and another group has just drifted in from the chilly late-autumn morning.

“There you go – nothing like a fresh pot of coffee! Those are our only vegan-friendly options, sorry…Oh, just go up to the front counter, I’ll sort you out in a second…Hello there! Give me two seconds, I’ll set you guys up right here...”

It’s only when she spots the Giant again, tucked away behind the half-wall, that she remembers him at all.

Well, he did get ‘the shitty table.’

She pins up two slips on the order wheel, pings the bell, ignores the ongoing drama in the kitchen and hurries back towards his table, order pad and pen already drawn. Thankfully, se’s still staring intently at the menu.

“Sorry about the wait, sweetie - what’ll it be?”

He glances up at her for a brief moment. She’s offering him a smile as an apology. He seems momentarily flustered, before staring back at the menu spread open in his hands.

“…I want the corned beef hash. Please.”

“Corned beef hash…with toast, home fries or pancakes?”

“Pancakes. Blueberry.”

“Sure thing!”

“...and a side of home fries, too.”

“Ok! How would you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled.” He pauses for a split second. “I would like two extra eggs.”

She looks up at him from her order pad.

His eyes are still glued to the menu.

“So you want four eggs - in total?”

He is chewing his bottom lip, his brows drawn tight as if the question was actually difficult. “…make it six eggs - in total.”

“Six?”

“Six.”

“Six.” She mutters under her breath as she scratches and scribbles it down quickly.

“I only want one yolk.”

Her pen pauses over the order pad for a second, then she shrugs. Grumpy won’t like it, but at least he’s not asking for something ‘raw, gluten-free, nut-free and vegan.’ “Six egg scramble, only one yolk…”

He’s nodding. “…and one rasher of turkey bacon, one turkey sausage, one cinnamon roll, a fruit salad, one grapefruit half, a glass of orange juice… actually, make that two – no – three turkey sausages …”

She’s starting to think he’ll never finish ordering. She’s almost right.

“…and a small oatmeal - extra cinnamon, no raisins.”

“Not two or three?” She jokes.

He looks up from the menu with a kinda cute, earnest, befuddled look on his face. “…excuse me?”

“The oatmeal.”

“…no. Just the one.”

He didn’t get it. She shrugs again. Maybe he’s a little slow. “…And one small oatmeal. Anything else?”

He looks back at the menu, flipping it over in his hands. His mouth opens, closes, before he shakes his head, and hands her the menu. “No. That’s all.”

“Thank you.” He adds.

His seriousness is just a tiny bit adorable.

She can’t be bothered repeating his order back to him. So, she just gives him another smile instead.

She thinks she can see him blushing.

 

====================================================

 

Table five has been wiped down and new diners have been seated by the time the Giant’s enormous breakfast is ready. It takes her two trips and a struggle to fit everything onto the tiny table. He tries to help, shuffling plates and bowls around ineffectually as she’s setting them down. As she finally manages to balance his fruit salad precariously among his plates of sausages and eggs and corned beef hash, he offers another quiet thank you.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Enjoy!”

She can’t help but stare as he immediately begins to slather most of his breakfast in pancake syrup, with unnecessarily intense focus. She hides her grin by turning away.

 

====================================================

 

Everywhere she goes, from her tables, to the front counter, to the kitchen, she can hear the slow clack-clack-clacking of ‘the shitty table’ as it wobbles while the Giant eats. He doesn’t look up from his steadily diminishing mountain of food.

But she’s looking at him.

She watches his jaw muscles clench as he chews, slowly and methodically. With every few bites, she can see him slowly set down his knife and fork to bring up a paper napkin and carefully wipe at his lips. He gets annoyed when his long, dark hair falls over his forehead, and he has to stop more than once to tuck the offending strand behind one of his ears. His has pretty big ears. Or big pretty ears.

She’s watching the Giant sip at a steaming spoonful of oatmeal when she’s jolted by an elbow nudge. It’s Finn – the other server - and he’s pointing. Her attention follows his finger to an irate soccer mom in her section, waving an empty cup at her.

Oh, right. That’s why she’s been holding the coffee pot. “I’ll be right there!” She beams.

She makes sure to check that the Giant’s still good for coffee, too. He’s got a fleck of oatmeal on his bottom lip. Rey points to her lips. He doesn’t bother with the napkin – he runs his tongue along it instead. 

 

====================================================

 

The morning rush has ebbed into the pre-lunch lull. Poe had come and gone through the kitchen with Maz to go to the bank. ( _Show me how this ATM deposit works, boy._ ) Grumpy Unkar is slurping coffee - with a splash of something harder, probably - at the bar while chuckling at the funnies. Finn is checking and refilling the condiments and the napkin dispensers.

She’s with one of the regulars who’s just wandered in, when she hears the scrape of a chair, a loud bang and a faint, pained “ah…” from the Giant’s corner. He’s bent over and rubbing vigorously at his knee.

She smiles as glances at him over her order pad, briefly ignoring her regular umming and ahhing in front of her. It’s almost as if the Giant felt her staring; because he’s look up to meet her eye. He has the same startled look on his face that he had when he first burst in through the door.

Then, he is smiling back. A tiny tug at the corner of his lips.

Her customer huffs loudly, apparently, they have given up. “I’ll just have the usual again, Rey.”

“Sure thing!” Rey tucks her order book back into her apron, and yells across to Grumpy Unkar. “Unkar! Usual for Nelson!”

Unkar is grumbling as he heaves himself up and back into the kitchen.

By now, the Giant is standing at the front counter, with his wallet opened and ready in his large hands. Rey smooths her apron, still smiling as she settles herself in front of a pin board.

“Did you enjoy your meal, sweetie?”

He offers a mumbled reply. Grabbing his order receipt from the pin board, she slides it in front of him.

“That comes to thirty-eight dollars and ten cents, thank you!”

He actually looks at her loopy scrawls as though he could decipher it. Nodding to himself, he pulls some bills from his wallet; lays down a fifty. Then another one.

Rey cocks her head. It’s her turn to be confused now. But for the first time, he holds her with a steady gaze and his little smile is back on his lips. His eyes are just as dark and shiny as his hair. She can feel herself flush red.

“Thank you. Keep the change.”

Was his voice always that deep?

She is still stunned as she watches him drape his scarf around his neck, and stride purposefully towards the great, green door. He braces himself, before pulling it open. A sudden gust swirls autumn red in.

His hair buffets in the wind and he buries his chin deeper in the up-turned lapel of his coat.

Then, the Giant is gone.


	2. Saturday Night and Chinese Food

The two-bedroom apartment, in the middle of Takodana, is annexed two floors above a closed-down, hollowed-out store. It’s a tiny place; old, almost crumbling, with creaky floors, and stuck doors, and walls so thin that sometimes, she can hear Finn _breathe_ in the other room.

Still, the rent was cheap. It was close to the bus stop. Maz’s Cantina was a ten-minute walk away. More importantly, it was _hers._ Well, half – no - a third of it was, anyway.

The apartment is currently exploding with cardboard boxes, some emptied, some untouched. The contents – a stack of books here, a collection of scale-model planes there, a pile of clothes yet to be put away - everything is hopelessly strewn. To be honest, it’s giving Rey a headache.

The master of the mess, a certain Mr Poe Dameron, doesn’t seem concerned. He’s sitting on the second-hand couch, next to her, gaping like a fish out of water.

“He left you a _sixty-dollar tip_?”

Poe’s mouth hangs open. She can see his half-chewed mouthful of pretzels. Gross. If she didn’t like him so much...

“Uh huh.”

“That’s it. You’re paying for dinner tonight. I vote pizza. Hey, did you hear that, Finn?” Poe’s practically shouting now, towards Finn’s open bedroom door. “Rey got a sixty-dollar tip. She’s paying for dinner.”

Finn peeks his head out into the living room, a pen tucked behind his ear, smirking. “Peanut,” he drawls at Rey, “are you talking about the BFG _again_?”

“BFG?” Poe asks.

Rey is rolling her eyes.

“Big fugly giant.” Finn barely gets the phrase out when he begins to chuckle. He ducks his head back inside his room.

Poe’s hand flies to his mouth in feigned horror. “Oh. My. _God._ He’s a big fugly giant?”

Rey groans, shakes her head. She loves Finn, dearly. But the man has two modes – sweetheart and super bitch. BFG was a product of the super bitch. “No. He isn’t fugly. He was actually kinda cute.”

Poe let’s out a long accusatory “oooooooh! Rey’s in love with a BFG! She wants to breed a tribe of BFG babies! She wants…hey, hey, HEY!”

Rey’s pelting him with pretzels. Poe valiantly tries to defend himself with a flattened, ragged cushion.

She eventually relents. But only because she doesn't wanna waste more pretzels. “Anyway, how did it go with Maz today?”

Poe doesn’t drop the cushion. He grins. “I see what you did there. Real subtle. Bravo. Well, ol’ Maz didn’t trust the ATM, so she made me do recount before I deposited the cash. Out in the open street.”

Rey frowns. She knows the neighborhood well. “That’s…remarkably unsafe.”

Poe agrees with vigorous nods as he digs around in the opened bag of pretzels between them. He grabs a small handful, pops a couple into his mouth, and crunches them before he continues. “Yeah, I explained that to her. I also explained that humans were far more likely to count wrong than an ATM. She yelled at me.” He grins. “Last time I’m doing her a favor.”

Finn’s apparently given up trying to study. He’s wandered out of his bedroom and is now leaning against the back of the couch, directly behind Poe. He’s running his fingers along the grain of Poe’s impressive stubble. Poe gives a purr of approval.

Rey muses as she chews. “Maz is just from another era.”

Poe chuckles. “Yeah. Jurassic. I swear, that woman is a thousand years old.”

Before an indignant Rey can respond, Finn’s already slapped the back of Poe’s head. “Be nice, Poe!”

“Or what, honey-bun?” Poe doesn’t register any pain. He’s snickering, reaching up to tug Finn down by the front of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna spank me again? Yes, sir, puh- _lease_.”

The two grown men descend quickly into giggles and sickly sweet, pecking kisses.

Rey lets out a loud groan. “Oh, come on you two! Get a room.”

Finn just can’t stop grinning. “Oh, Peanut, we’ve already _got_ one.”

Rey buries her head in her hands.

Finn quickly plants one last big one on Poe’s forehead before he straightens up, ruffles Rey’s hair on the way to the bathroom. Poe has a dopey smile on his face as he watches Finn’s departure. As the bathroom door closes, he seems to snap out of it.

“Speaking of rooms.” He fixes Rey with a suddenly serious stare. He’s almost whispering. “Are you sure you’re ok with me moving in? I mean, I know you and Finn are tight, but I don’t want to make you to feel like you’re a third wheel…?”

Rey cocks her head. “Why would I mind? I love Finn, Finn loves you, we’re friends...”

“Best friends.” Poe interjects.

“Best friends.” Rey agrees. “There’s no problem.”

Poe side-eyes her before he lets out a long sigh. “Thank god, you’re ok with this. I just thought…never mind. But I swear, I will follow all of the rules. Finn’s already gone through the list with me. By the way - always leave the toilet seat down?”

“Yep.”

“Even though there are more men living in this apartment than women?”

“Yep.”

“Ok. Good. Now that’s sorted. Let’s go get some pizza. Hey, Finn!” Poe’s shouting at the direction of the bathroom door. Rey’s laughing behind her hand. “Let’s go get some pizza! I’m hungry for sausage and pepperoni! Hurry up! Mrs Money-bags is paying!”

Muffled by the bathroom door, Finn’s voice still manages to ring clear. “You’re always hungry for sausage!”

Poe chokes.

Rey falls off the couch laughing.

 

====================================================

 

In the end, it was Poe who insisted that they go dutch. They don’t end up getting take-out, as they’d planned. They also don’t end up getting the pizza that Poe swore he was absolutely dying for. Instead, they’re eating Chinese food at the usual place, because Finn had a sudden, insatiable craving for egg rolls, lo mein and bright red sweet and sour pork.

Rey finds herself being seated again at the same old hideous yellow formica table, under whirring white fluorescent lights, listening to the same old compilation piano mix being played on loop. The food had come out quickly. It’s apparently a slow night at the Takodana Chinese Restaurant. There’s only one other table tonight.

This place should be so familiar, so comfortable. But instead of fighting with Finn over fried wontons and stealing from each other’s plates and joking with the waitress, there is an uneasy silence.

At an empty table near the back, Mr and Mrs Pava are yammering away in their native language, their heads close together.

Rey sneaks glances as Mrs Pava brings one of the red paper napkins she’s been folding into fans up to dab her eyes. Mr Pava reaches out to touch her shoulder, but his arm falls slowly back to his side. His other hand, the one on the table, clenches, scrunching a letter beneath his palm.

Rey recognizes something in their wordless exchange, an old familiar sting she can’t quite put words to. But she’s never been one to intrude.

Finn is the one who reaches out to catch Jessika Pava’s arm as she walks past them, a tub of dirty dishes in her hands.

“Jessika,” he asks, voice low and forehead creased in concern, “are your parents alright?”

Jessika’s smile is a little thin, her eyes are a little shiny. “Oh, yeah,” she says, “everything is fine.” She gently shakes off Finn’s light grip. He’s about to say something, but Rey nudges him with her knee under the table, and flashes him a warning look. Finn shuts his mouth. Jessika continues on her way.

Rey avoids Finn’s glare, and it is all she can do to stare at her plate of now cold, greasy noodles. She’s suddenly lost her appetite.

 

====================================================

 

It’s a subdued walk back to their apartment.

Normally, Finn and Rey would race each other – to the next trashcan or the next streetlight. If drunk, Poe would begin serenading Finn, bellowing at the top of his lungs in Spanish. They might also have taken a long detour via Poe’s childhood favorite for cannoli and Italian hot chocolate - at least they might have if Frankie’s bake shop hadn’t closed down six months ago. A brightly-lit rice-pudding ‘bar’ had taken its place. Overpriced rice-pudding never did quite seem to hit the spot like a good cannoli could. Poe was crushed when he found out.

They are quiet when they climb up the two flights of stairs to their apartment. No jostling, or shushing as Finn turns the key and gives the stubborn door a deliberate shove with his shoulder to push it open. They disperse, each going their separate ways to begin their nightly rituals in preparation for bed.

Poe’s already in bed by the time Rey’s switching off the living room lights. She can hear him snoring. She hopes he doesn’t do that all night.

Finn is still hanging outside his bedroom door.

He reaches out his hand to clasp Rey’s. They grin at each other.

“Hey. Thanks for letting Poe move in, Peanut.”

His eyes are glistening, and Rey’s heart melts. It’s sweetheart, straight-from-the-bottom-of-his-soul Finn. Rey bites her lip.

“I want you to be happy, Finn.”

Finn squeezes her fingers.

“Sweet dreams, Peanut.”

“Good night, Finn.”

They close the doors to their respective bedrooms at the same time.

But it takes a while for Rey to finally fall asleep.


	3. I Will Come Back Then

Her bus was late. She had to run from the stop all the way to Maz’s Cantina. The normally studious Jessika wasn’t on campus today. It was odd, but she couldn’t worry about that right now.

It’s an unusually busy Wednesday night. They’re being run off their feet. Finn practically sobbed and praised the Lord when she turned up.

Maz wasn’t in tonight. According to Grumpy Unkar, she left just after lunch saying she felt sick. Normally a steady fixture, Maz’s absence is felt keenly today. Rey’s feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s days like this that makes her think she might actually hate her job.

Sure, she loves Maz’s gruff, no-nonsense affection, she loves that she gets to work with her best friend. Her regulars, the ones she’s gotten to know and care about, are great. Hell, she even likes Unkar. When you catch him in a good mood, he can be pretty funny.

But sometimes - just sometimes - customers can get too pushy, too rude, and forget that she isn’t just a waitress - but a complete _person._ She’s immune mostly, but sometimes, they get a good jab in. She’s forced to smile, and roll with the punches while dealing silently with all her other stuff. A term paper that’s she can’t seem to get right, the fact that she knows one of her friends is upset but doesn’t quite know what to do about it, then there’s that constant gnawing she has always felt at her core, dull like a nerve being twanged, the old wound that she almost forgot she ever had at all…

“Excuse me, _miss_ ,” the woman wearing chunky plastic jewelry says, tone faking cordiality – as if being polite actually required her conscious effort. She had the audacity to grab Rey’s elbow as she’d passed by, “can you _please_ chase up my order, _again_?”

Rey manages to not spill everything she’s holding over the woman’s stupid head. “I’m sorry for the wait,” Rey’s voice is trained to the pleasant tone she’s gradually perfected, “it’s coming soon.”

“Yes, but I’d still _like_ you to chase it for me.”

Rey doesn’t snap at her, but the urge is strong. “Sure thing!”

“ _Thank you._ ” The woman’s shrill sing-song is at once dismissive and sarcastic.

As Rey continues on her way, she hears it. A loud, not-whisper to the greasy man whose knee the woman is grabbing. She means for Rey to hear it. “My god, _papi,_ that waitress is _fucking useless_.”

Rey wants to spit on their food when she brings it out. She doesn’t.

The woman’s response was an exaggerated eye roll, a “ _finally,_ ” and a “I’m still missing my side salad.”

Rey’s simmering by now, and tries not to stomp on her way back to the kitchen window. She is ignoring the relentless drone around her as she tries to calm herself down. Only a few more hours, then she can retreat back to her dreaded term paper.

Finn appears beside her, slightly breathless. He’s hastily checking the slips before loading up with three heavily-laden plates. His arms are full when he spots, arrested. He then points with his chin towards the great, olive-green door.

“Look. It’s the BFG.”

He sounds unimpressed.

And so it is. Overdressed in another fancy suit, the Giant is a little less perfect today, looking a little creased around the edges. He seems angry at whoever he’s on the phone with.

Rey dumps the side salad with a _thunk_ on the woman’s table, ignoring her “He _y! Watch it!_ ”

The Giant is practically seething when he shoves his phone inside his heavy coat. But as soon as his eyes meet Rey’s, they soften just a little bit. He seems to recognize her.

“Hello, sweetie! Table for one, again?”

He nods, shrugging off his coat and scarf.

“Follow me!”

Unfortunately, she hasn’t had the chance to clear this table yet. She sets about doing so as he stands just a little too close behind her. When she’s gathered all of the dirty dishes, he gives her his tiny smile as he drapes his coat and scarf over the empty chair.

“Take a seat, sweetie, I’ll get you a menu.”

Rey is going to do just that when she feels a sharp jab on her lower back. Turning around, she sees its the woman again, her long, orange nail still pointed towards her.

“Water.” She demands.

“Sure thing!”

Another order is ready to be served. One of the tables are finishing up with their meal. Rey needs to quickly ring them up. Oh, right, the Giant. She’s grabbed a menu and is laying it in front of him when the woman pokes her, again.

“Hey, lady! Where’s my water?”

“Sorry, I’ll be right back with it.”

“ _Ay_ Dios Mio…”

Rey turns back to the Giant. He doesn’t look happy. One of his fists are clenched over the menu before him.

Rey gestures towards it. “Would you like a minute?”

“No.”

Rey scrambles for her order pad.

He glances down, shifting his hand slightly so he could read. “I’ll have… the baked chicken.”

Rey writes it down, then waits for the rest of his order. Perhaps she waits a bit too long, because his expression changes to a slight grimace. But his tone is one of concern “…are you alright?”

Her cheeks feel suddenly warm; she resists the urge to touch them. “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you were gonna order something else.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Something else?”

“I thought you were gonna order more, is what I mean.”

His tiny smile is back. “No. I just want baked chicken tonight.”

“Sure thing!” She reaches for the menu and he lifts his hand so she can pick it up.

 She’s about to rush off again when she feels herself getting poked and grabbed.

“Hey, don’t you _dare_ forget my water this time.”

Rey’s ready to explode now. Feels herself reaching deep for a huge verbal slap-down, tip be damned. But her rage fizzles out at the sound of snapping fingers and a low, hissing whistle. Surprised, both women turn to look at the Giant.

He is unhappy again. But his voice is deep and even when he speaks. “She will get your water. Remove your hand, _now_.”

Rey feels the woman’s hand fall from her arm. She feels rather than sees the greasy man shift his seat, as if he wants to get up and defend his woman. But the Giant, without a word, without twitching one muscle, manages to turn from mere displeasure to scarily...threatening. Whatever fight that might have broken out between them dissipates as the man slowly sits his ass back down.

The Giant turns his gaze away, releasing all three of them. The woman turns back in her seat, and avoids looking at Rey.

Rey doesn't care about _her_ now. She's far too stunned.

The Giant isn’t just some big, slightly confused, adorkable guy - he has bark and teeth and bite.

And Rey doesn’t know what how she feels about that.

 

====================================================

 

Rey’s pretty much tried to dodge the Giant afterwards.

Grabby and Greasy pay their check without a word. Rey knows they’ll never return. Good riddance.

When she rings up the Giant, he does it again.

Another fifty-dollar tip, for essentially leaving him alone all night. She should be feeling uneasy, maybe a little scared of him, but his gaze holds no expectation. Instead, he regards her with an unreadable look. His mouth works as if he wants to say something, but he then masters it. How could someone’s eyes be so expressive yet hard to read at the same time?

She should maybe thank him and is trying to find the words. But he’s already turned to leave; he’s already opened the door.

Rey’s said it a thousand times. A cheerful little goodbye that’s lost all meaning. Although, with him almost gone, she thinks she’s saying it to make him stay just a little longer.

“Come back soon.”

It comes out wrong, on the cusp between a question and a request. She prays he didn’t hear it that way. But he does. Her heart is beating way too fast.

His voice is so quiet, so earnest, Rey almost doesn’t hear him.

“…would you like me to come back?”

Her heart stops for a moment. She’s looking down at the counter, mulling over the question. She knows he is waiting for her answer.

“…yes.”

He lingers by the open door, and she still can’t read the expression on his face. But something has shifted, she can feel it. An eternity passes between them.

“I will come back, then.”

“…ok.”

“Ok.”

As the door closes behind him, Rey lets out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Then, she's grinning like an idiot.

Finn snorts as he laughs, drawing Rey’s attention. He is holding a coffee pot in one hand, his stomach in the other.

“Peanut, I love you to death, but sometimes, you’re just so _weird_.”

 

Rey doesn’t care.

She feels like she’s flying.


	4. The Council member

_“It’s fucking crazy! They’re ruining the community. Can’t you do anything about this?”_

_“Yeah, we’ve even had the cops show up to shut us down! A noise complaint! For the annual block party! We’ve been doing this every year for over thirty years! Thirty years!”_

_“Fucking yuppie-hipster newcomers…”_

_“Get off your ass and do something!”_

_“Yeah!”_

 

Rey bends down to Finn’s ear. “Do we really need to be here?”

Finn looks just as miserable as her. “I promised Poe.”

Rey decides to shut her mouth.

She really didn’t need to be here. Neither did Finn. They were roped in.

 

================================================

 

It had started with a phone call. Right in the middle of a Star Wars movie marathon.

Finn dug into the pockets of his sweatpants, mouthing an apology. Rey smiled and shrugged. Maybe it was a sign from above. She should really have been working on her term paper, anyway.

Finn’s eyes lit up when he saw the caller ID. Poe. It didn’t seem to matter that they had been together for almost two years, that they now shared the same apartment, slept in the same bed, Finn’s eyes always lit up when Poe called. He practically squealed, waving his cell in front of Rey’s face, before he untangled his legs from her, threw off the comforter and bounded off the couch.

“Hey, baby! You coming home?”

Rey had one eye on the television, one eye on Finn. She watched as his eyes slowly dimmed. She tried not to listen in on Finn’s increasingly hissed, clipped responses.

“You lied! You said you’d be… hold on, what? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Rey turned the volume up on the TV. Finn reached over, snatched the remote from her fingers and muted the set. Rey was left playing with her thumbs.

“You FORGOT?”

Poe’s frantic apologies filled the tiny apartment, and he wasn’t even on loudspeaker.

Finn finally closed his eyes as he sighed.

“Fine,” he’d bit out, as he pressed his phone harder against his cheek, “yes, ok.”

Rey couldn’t help but see his utter defeat in the way his body hunched over as he pouted and scratched his nails along the top of the couch.

“But just this once, ok? For the love of…yes! I still love you. Bye.”

Silence.

He stood for a long while, head dipped, tapping the corner of the phone against his fat bottom lip. Deep in thought.

When he finally looked up at Rey, he was smiling again.

“Peanut. Do you wanna do me a huuuuge favor?”

 

=================================================

 

And that was how they’d ended up here, on the edge of a storm. Unwittingly volunteered out for an unofficial gathering of the Takodana community.

Maz, it turned out, had offered to host at her Cantina. Poe had apparently promised her on the fly that he would help. Except he had forgotten, and there was also a crisis at work he couldn’t get away from.

So when Finn and Rey showed up two hours ago, Maz was a little surprised. But she was a woman who never stayed surprised for too long, and soon she was directing them this way and that. Brew up coffee in the big urns, set out trays of clean cups and boxes of glazed donuts. Push the tables aside, make a circle with the chairs. _Stay around, children, you’ll need to help out at the end._

They sat as far away as they could from a shouting horde of business owners and concerned community members.

Most of their irritation was directed – right or wrongly – at the greying, scruffy, professorial looking man standing in the middle of the circle. A council member, apparently.

He held up his hands in a placating manner, an unwavering calm in the furor.

“Now, now, everybody.” He struggles to raise his voice, as if unused to speaking louder than a whisper, “I know what your concerns are. Believe me, I feel the exact same way you do…”

“Even the Pavas are having the same damn problem! It’s the same damn thing that happened to Frankie! It’s happening all over!” A voice interjected.

‘Yeahs’ bubbled from the crowd. Jessika wasn’t here, but her parents were. They were nodding in agreement, fire in their eyes.

Rey strains to find the interjector. She doesn’t recognize his round, red face.

“You even remember the Pavas? You even remember Frankie?”

The council member shoots a look at the speaker. His look wasn’t threatening, but it was enough to quiet everyone down.

“I care about Takodana, just as much as everybody else here.” The council member began again, “I’m aware of what’s been happening to our community. I’m sorry that whatever I’ve done so far hasn’t seemed to help...”

The red-faced interjector looks ready to speak again, but he’s shut down by another look. He crosses his arms, huffs and retreats further back into his chair.

Satisfied, the council member continues, “…but I can assure you, I am committed. But I’m also admitting to you, I need your help and support. That’s why I’m here tonight, to take consultation. So we can work together, and fight as communi…”

“You know what,” It’s red-face again, unable to resist at last. “with all due respect, _council member_ ,” he spits the title out like grit in his teeth, “you’re full of shit. You aren’t some knight here to save us little folks. Hell, you’re not even a real Takodana boy. You and your fucking council don’t give two shits about us...”

Even Rey flinches at the tone. The scruffy man doesn’t respond.

“...so why don’t you just fuck off back to Coruscant.”

The room erupts into thunderous shouts, a smattering of applause. Rey watches as the scruffy man’s calmness slowly drifts into despair.

 

================================================

He sighs.

This entire meeting was a bust. So many things were said, but nothing was accomplished. People had left angrier, dispersing into the night like he’d kicked a nest of bees. At least no one got hurt, no chairs were thrown.

He has found a hole in the sleeve of his jacket, is thumbing it when Maz sets a cup of coffee in front of him. He looks at the coffee, looks at Maz. There is a simple, steady kindness in her eyes that reminds him of his old mentor, a strange tiny man who somehow held all the world’s wisdom in his small frame. Had it really been over twenty years since he’d died? Twenty years, and he still feels like a novice. Damn, he thinks, when did I get _so goddamn old_.

“I’m sorry,” Maz soothes, “I know you’re trying your best.”

The words still echo loudly across the decades. “Do, or do not. There is no try.”

Maz's eyes water, she blinks and its gone. “Don’t you worry, child. I’ll straighten them out.”

She could do it. That’s not why he laughs. “Maz, I’m a fifty-year-old man; hardly a child anymore.”

Maz’s eyes crinkle as she smiles, “Luke Skywalker. When you get to my age, everybody is a child.”

For a second, the years melt away. He’s no longer tired and troubled by the fights against his own blood, with failing the people he cares about, with feeling like he’s throwing himself at a wall that won’t budge. One precious second, and then it passes. He gulps down the lukewarm coffee, steels his belly and rolls up his shirt sleeves. Self-pity never did anybody any good.

“Alright, Maz, let’s clean up this mess.”

There are tables and chairs to put right, dishes to clean, floors to sweep and mop. It feels good to do some actual work.

He can see the two kids helping out are… well not exactly shy, but unsure of him. That’s to be expected – he’s a strange man, who’s also apparently the center of a pretty major shit-storm. That couldn’t have made for a good first impression. Having said that, he’d never been the kind of man who goes out of his way to impress. His sister had words to say about that fact.

But there is something else. He notices how they cling to each other like kittens tossed out into the rain. When he goes to take the chairs from the girl, she just grips them tighter. Offering him a slightly fake, friendly smile, but he can see the wariness tucked behind her eyes.

“It’s ok, council member. I’ve got it.” She says, her voice firm but polite.

He feels an overwhelming need to be kind to her, he thinks that she’s been deprived of it, that she needs it. “Please, call me Luke.”

Her friend is hovering nearby. So Luke lets the chair go.

The green door bangs open, eliciting an angry yell from Maz.

“Don’t you be tearing down my place, boy!”

“I’m sorry, Maz… hey baby.”

It's the Dameron boy, Poe. But Luke doesn’t seem to rate a notice. Poe’s running past him to the boy, going to hold the young man’s face in his hands and kiss him.  

The boy turns his head away. “I’m still mad.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m really sorry.” Poe’s rubbing the boy’s shoulders in an effort to placate him, then he’s looking around, as if asking for help. First to the girl, then finally settling onto Luke. Poe’s eyes widen in recognition.

“Luke. I meant to get here sooner.” Poe doesn’t let go of the boy as he reaches out his hand to shake Luke’s.

“It’s alright, Poe. You didn’t miss anything important.”

“That’s good. Or bad. Oh, um…” Poe hesitates for a second, reading the awkwardness in the room. “Have you guys met? This is my boyfriend, Finn. That’s Rey, friend and housemate. That’s Luke, old family friend.”

Luke feels a little bit silly, his hand held up in a greeting gesture he's seen kids do these days. But it works, he sees a smile. That, and the fact Poe likes him seems to make the boy and girl less guarded.

They work together quite well after that, and soon the cantina is back to its usual self.

It’s raining when Maz gets ready to lock up.

“I’m driving you home.” Luke says, leaving no room for disagreement. He looks at the three youngsters. “Do you need a ride?”

“It’s alright, we just live down…” the girl, Rey, begins.

“Yeah, that’ll be fantastic, thanks Luke.” Poe cuts in.

It’s going to be a tight squeeze. Luke is grateful he had the foresight to vacuum his car on the weekend.

 

================================================

 

“Kids, stay in the car while I walk Maz to her door.”

“It’s alright, Luke, I’ll do it.” Poe flashes a toothy grin he pops open his car door, pulling his leather jacket up over his head. He still manages to get soaked through. He tries to shield Maz as she clings to him. They blur into the rain.

“Thank you, for offering us a lift.” Rey, again.

“Yeah, thanks, Luke.” Finn.

“You’re welcome.” Luke glances at his rear-view mirror, catching their eyes. “Rey, if I’m not mistaken, that accent - Jakku?”

The girl sits stiffer. The boy’s eyes are darting around. Luke thinks he’s made the wrong move here.

He tries again. Talking to people isn’t his strong suit. “You’ve probably figured I’m not from these parts either. I spent my younger years out on a farm in Tatooine.”

“Couldn’t tell.” She says. Yep, Luke definitely said the wrong thing.

Poe’s slightly breathless when he jumps back into the car. He seems to sense the tension but says nothing.

“Is Maz settled, Poe?” Luke asks.

“Yep.”

Luke flicks his indicator and pulls out onto the street.

By the time he’s pulled up outside the youngster’s apartment, the rain is easing to a drizzle. He has made his mind. He almost feels like he is diving back into the same puddle, knowing that it’s quicksand. He hasn't reached out like this in so long, but he feels he needs to.

The car door is open, the tiny cabin warmed by a little yellow light. He turns around, arm braced against the empty passenger seat. He locks eyes with the boy and the girl. They stop unbuckling their seatbelts.

“If you kids need anything,” he says, “let Poe know. I promise I’ll be there to help you kids in anyway I can.”

Luke doesn’t know it, wouldn’t be able to tell by the stony face the girl’s giving him.

But Rey, even surprising herself, believes he's telling the truth.


	5. I am Kylo Ren

On Fridays, Rey has to leave CU by three pm. From there, it’s a fifty-minute commute involving the Downtown train, then a bus out of the city and across the Takodana Bridge. When it’s on time - if it’s on time - she still has to run in order to arrive mere minutes before the dinner shift started at Maz’s Cantina.

Fridays are never great. But today was especially bad.

She hadn’t wanted to back awkwardly out of the crowded Corner Coffee, just across the street from the CU campus, leaving behind a visibly upset Jessika sobbing into Finn’s shoulder.

_“…then Dad said we're going to have to leave Takodana.”_

_“Shit.”_

Rey had said shit. What the hell kind of response is shit? She’s mad at herself – a swearword wasn’t what Jessika needed. She needed someone to comfort her. The problem was, Rey didn’t know how to comfort people. Should she have hugged her? Bought her a pumpkin spice latte? Maybe blow off work so they could talk shit out? Rey sucks at talking shit out. The only person she’s ever felt comfortable talking shit out with was Finn. And it took her _ages_ before she was ok with doing that.

_Shit._

Rey’s still mad at herself as she bursts in through the back door and storms past a surprised looking Greta, the other waitress on for tonight. Rey doesn’t notice, instead going straight into the little cubby-hole jokingly called the ‘staff-room’. She doesn’t even bother to fold her heavy sweater, balling it up and shoving it roughly into her tote bag. She almost knots her fingers in her own apron strings.

_“…Leave Takodana.”_

_“Shit.”_

“Rey,” Greta says, appearing at the door, the older woman’s permanent frown is deeper than usual.

“Hi, Greta.”

“Maz just called. She isn’t coming in tonight. It’s just the two of us.”

This week just keeps getting better and better.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

====================================================

Fuck.

Even an old hand like Greta is barely keeping up. The place is packed. For the first time since Rey can remember, there is an actual line waiting to get into Maz’s Cantina.

This is getting out of hand. Maz needs to hire another server.

Rey prides herself on being good at her job, but tonight, she can hear the steel edge in her voice, feel the brusqueness in her manner, as she flies like a ping-pong ball from table to counter to bar to kitchen and back again.

She sets down a heavy plate.

The kindly-looking elderly man looks confused.

“Excuse me, miss, this isn’t what I ordered.”

Rey let out a frustrated, long-winded “ugh”, stunning the man and his wife. Rey has stunned herself too. She immediately falls on apologies.

“I’m really, really sorry, sir. I didn’t mean…here let me fix that for you right away.”

Grabbing the plate, she rushes back to the kitchen window, grabs the slip for a quick check. Fuck, she’d served to the wrong table. If she’s managed to confuse herself, she should maybe work on making her fives not look like threes. She quickly turns around, skirts the bar, nudges her way between two tables, just narrowly misses the woman who suddenly pushes her chair out, and then slams, hard, right into something solid.

Greta is yelling.

Rey watches in horror.

Marinara smears red all over a crisp white shirt. The plate bounces on the lino floor before it explodes into thick shards.

Rey’s hands immediately fly to tug on her apron strings before pulling the cloth off of her body. She frantically tries to daub at the man’s shirtfront.

“Oh… _no_. Oh, God! I’m so sorry, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”

It’s not working, the red seeps deeper, the oily mark spreads wider. This day cannot get any worse.

It’s then that large, pale hands still hers.

She looks up.

It’s the Giant.

====================================================

_“…Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”_

When the girl collided into him, he had been winded. He still feels heat licking at his stomach from the spilled sauce. He had stood motionless as the girl tried to clean him off. But it was futile. She is making a mess of it.

He despises mess. This should annoy him. But somehow, he finds that he is not angry with her. Instead, he finds himself gently holding her small, delicate hands. Now, she is looking up at him. She is wide-eyed in her surprise.

She takes his breath away, and he does not know why.

She does not cease with her babbling. He wants to quell her rising panic. He wants to smooth back her hair, to kiss her forehead. It is an impulse he catches just in time.

He shushes her instead. “It’s alright.”

The other waitress, the older one who had served him last night, is talking at him. He does not ignore her so much as he simply cannot hear her. Just as he cannot hear the restaurant around him. His world seems to have narrowed down to the pretty girl standing before him.

He is leaning down towards the girl now, as close as he can without scaring her. She smells like diner grease and sweat. But underneath, there is something else. Something almost unbearably sweet, light and floral – a cheap, artificial scent that is far too mature for her. It does not repulse him as it should; instead he finds that he likes it. He holds back a groan.

“Are you alright?” He murmurs.

The girl has stopped babbling, but has not stopped looking at him. She gives him a quick, bobbing nod. He finds he cannot control the urge to smile. He does not like to smile; it is a sign of weakness.

“Then can you show me to the restroom?”

She slowly pulls one of her hands from his grip, and points just behind him.

“Thank you.”

With those words, he releases her hands, and heads off into the direction she had pointed him towards.

It is a shared restroom, unoccupied. He lets himself in, and slides the lock in place. The sink is old, brown stained, and worn from years of harsh cleaning. He braces himself against it, taking a deep breath before he glances into the rusting mirror to assess the damage she had done.

She had wiped off most of the excess. But his shirt is unsalvageable. Unfortunate.

It is sheer luck that he was not wearing his suit jacket, that it was draped over his arm and safely out of the way when she bumped into him. He shakes it out now, and carefully pulls it on, buttons it up. He runs his hand down to smooth a wrinkle, then maneuvers his body to examine the result in the mirror. He can still see the stain, but it is less noticeable now. It will do until he gets back to Coruscant.

He is interrupted by gentle knocking on the restroom door.

“Hello? It’s me, again. Is everything ok in there?”

He turns to slide the lock open and pulls open the door. He takes one step forward and fills the doorway.

It is her.

Their eyes find each other easily, before her gaze drifts down toward the stain. He watches wordlessly as she reaches out to touch it, to touch him. She pauses just as he feels her fingertips press against his stomach. She then withdraws as if he is scorched iron.

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

Her eyes are wide set and impossibly large. They are…beautiful.

He could not stop himself.

“I don’t know your name.” He is muttering again, and there is wonder in his tone. She makes him weak.

“I...sorry?”

He repeats himself. Louder, this time. Slower. “I do not know your name.”

“Are you asking…?”

He does not reply. He watches her press her lips together, her body tense, a thousand thoughts flying through her mind. He wishes he could hear them. Eventually, she relaxes.

“I’m Rey.”

“Rey,” he echoes. He tests, tastes the name. He likes it. It suits her. “Rey.”

He smiles again, and she smiles back.

“Can I ask for your name?”

“Yes.” He replies. “I am Kylo Ren.”


	6. Reunion

It’s late by the time Luke Skywalker slows his car to a stop, rusty brakes squealing, outside the high, wrought iron gates of Organa House. It takes effort to yank up the handbrake before furiously winding down the ancient window crank.

The voice that came out of the intercom was tinny, but he understood it well enough.

“Please identify yourself.”

“This is…ahem!” Something feels caught in his throat - Luke clears it, swallows the invisible lump. “This is Luke. Skywalker.”

No response.

“Council Member Luke Skywalker. I believe Senator Organa is expecting me?”

The intercom unceremoniously cuts. Luke waits, fingers nervously tapping on his steering wheel along to music playing on the radio.

_Duh-da-Duh-da-Duhda-Duh…_

It takes several moments before the tinny voice returns with a crackle. “Council member, please proceed.”

The huge gate slowly swings open, and Luke grimaces as he drops his handbrake. He shouts a hasty thank you towards the intercom, before gingerly easing his ancient car down the long, winding driveway.

This meeting had been easy enough to arrange. What was hard was picking up the phone and dialing the number he’d been staring at for so long. It took a shot of liquid courage to place the call.

At the end of the driveway, he sees two men in black suits wave at him. He follows their gestures until he is parked outside the grand entrance the sprawling old-world mansion. One of the men steps forward, his blinding flashlight is pointed towards the ground.  

“Good evening, council member. The senator told us to expect you. Can you please show us some identification, sir?”

Luke realizes he recognizes none of these security guards. Perhaps he has been gone for too long. Luke fumbles inside his well-worn tweed jacket, before producing his driver’s license. “There you go.”

The guard quickly looks over the license, before handing it back. “Thank you, sir. If you would like to follow me, the senator is already waiting for you.”

Luke has to struggle his way out of his car, vowing to himself again that he would re-double his efforts to get to a healthier weight. When he frees himself, the guard leads him up the few steps towards the front door. It opens immediately, answered by a prim, golden-haired man who seemed pleased to see him.

“Good evening, Master Luke! It is a pleasure to see you again. Please, this way.”

Luke grins in response, clapping the Organa butler on his shoulder. Stiff as a tin can, as always. “How are you, Threepio?”

“I’m very well, sir.”

Luke follows, allowing himself to admire in the rich furnishings of the house. It had changed much since he was here last time. Luke isn’t intimidated by the show of wealth; he just wonders how someone has busy as the senator found the time to accumulate anything.

Once they reach the sitting room, Threepio knocks and gently cracks open the door, standing stiffer as he begins to announce Luke, but the senator cuts him off quickly. The senator hasn’t changed one bit. Blunt as always. Luke smiles.

“That’s fine, Threepio, we can forego the formalities.” The senator pats the plush seat next to her. “Come on, Luke. Sit down.”

Threepio bows as he exits the living room. Senator Leia Organa and Luke Skywalker regard each other quietly for a while.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve come to see me, Luke.” Leia begins, her posture ramrod straight, a hint of irritation in her voice. “It almost took me an entire army to track you down. Then I find out you’re not only living in Takodana, but you won a seat on the Coruscant City Council.”

Luke is genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, Leia. After what happened, I needed to get away for a while…”

Leia looks down at her hands, her shoulders sag. Luke can feel her softening. Her husky, sharp voice takes on a warmer tone. “It’s fine, Luke. I don’t blame you. What happened…it was my fault. If only I’d paid more attention, been less involved with everything else…”

“Hey, Leia. If it was going to happen, it was going to happen. It’s hard to admit it, but he knew what he was doing.”

“I can’t believe that’s his doing, though. All those poor people…” Leia turns away to hide her moistening eyes, “If Lor San Tekka himself hadn’t told me everything about what happened down in Jakku...” Her hands ball into tight fists on her lap.

Luke can feel his heart aching. He hadn’t come to scratch and tear at old wounds. He reaches out to curl his hand around one of her fists. She readily laces her fingers with his.

His voice is low now, “I was there. Afterwards. There was a corruption investigation and an official inquiry, but nothing came of them. I checked with the SA’s office. Everything was legal - above board. No matter what, believe that.” He searched for hope in Leia’s eyes, but found none.

“What he did was heartless.” Leia sighed, and deliberately shook her entire body. She straightened up, her moment of weakness was gone. Luke admires her ability, but at the same time worries immensely that this strength came at too high a cost. “That’s not the boy I raised, Luke. I promise. I wanted him to be kind and caring and…”

“I know, Leia. I know. Remember, I helped raise him too.”

“You were just his uncle, Luke.”

“I was also his teacher…”

“But I am his mother.”

There is a long pause. Luke contemplates his past sins, a bitter dram that still sits in his gullet. He has so many regrets, but none so great as this one. He felt dirty asking for this now.

“He’s coming for Takodana next.”

Leia was apparently one step ahead of him. She was always one step ahead of him. She stands, and walked over to the roaring fireplace, stares at the flames. She sounds resigned, “that’s why you’re here.”

“I’m sorry, Leia. But I…we really need your help.”

“I…I can’t help you, Luke. I have no official jurisdiction over this matter.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Please, Leia. He listened to you once, he’ll listen to you again.”

Leia’s laugh is harsh and bitter. “No, I lost that right years ago, Luke. He listens to no one but _him_ now.”

“Him?”

Luke asks, even though he knows who he is.

Leia turns her back on her brother. Luke senses a finality in her straight posture.

“I think this was a mistake. Please, Threepio will show you out the door.”


	7. Information Gathering

He directs his driver to his offices. It is closer than his apartment. As they crossed the Takodana Bridge back into Coruscant, he finds that his thoughts keep drifting back to the girl, Rey.

She had offered to replace his shirt. When he told her how much it cost, she had visibly paled.

 _“Can…can I pay you back in installments?”_ She had asked him, stammering.

_“You don’t have to pay me back.”_

_“No, that’s not right.”_

He was amused by her insistence. But he had also seen an opportunity. A businessman of Kylo’s caliber never missed an opportunity.

_“Then repay me another way. Have dinner with me.”_

She had been silent at first. When she finally agreed. He found that he was…elated. But also, strangely relieved. Perturbed.

Outside of the car, the scenery has changed from brick and brownstone to steel and glass and concrete. Central Coruscant, the beating heart of the Republic. This was Kylo’s natural habitat. He can already feel his veins swell with power.

His driver takes him deep underground, below the First Order Building, and lets him out at the executive carpark, where a private elevator takes him, unseen, to his vast offices. He heads to a hidden suite, to a bedroom he keeps for his frequent late nights. He picks out a spare shirt, a suit, and heads to the shower.

When he is done, the stained shirt is tossed into a waste bin.

His assistant, Phasma, was already long gone by this hour. As he fixes his cufflinks, he notices that the doors to his office is slid open. He already has a vague idea of who it may be. He is displeased rather than surprised.

He drops his suit jacket onto Phasma’s desk before entering his office. Only a single lamp was switched on. He slides the doors closed behind him and leaned back against the hard wood.

He is right.

He would recognize that silhouette even if he were being dragged screaming down to Hades.

He cools his tone to ice. “I believe I rescinded my open invitation some time ago. _You_ are required to wait…out…side.”

She slinks out of the shadows, lithe as a panther. Even now, after all she had done to him, she can send delicious shivers down his spine. She might even be aware that she has that effect on him. But Kylo Ren now is a very different animal from the Kylo Ren she had sunk her claws into years ago. He no longer aches for her, even if still carries her scars. Kylo Ren remembers his lesson well.

She smirks, and licks her blood-red upper lip. She pouts with insincere guilt. “I am very sorry, sir.”

Kylo fixes his stare, blatantly tracing her once familiar curves as he bounces himself off of the sliding doors. He measures his strides across room, heavy footsteps thunder on the wooden floor. He turns to settle against his vast mahogany desk, spreading his palms wide behind him as he leans back. His expression remains one of indifference.

She was circling him too; mimicking his pace as she maneuvers to stand by the bar. Her long, pretty fingers play with the stopper of his lead-crystal decanter. She plays coy when she raises an eyebrow and a low-ball glass. Kylo nods slowly, watching as she strokes the stopper before tugging it free with a _tink_. She smirks at him as she pours out two fingers neat. She knows how he likes it.

She sways as she walks towards him, stands in the space between his splayed legs, deliberately brushes his fingers with hers as she hands him the whisky.

He holds her stare as he sips, regards her over the lip of the glass.

She is very capable. She had once told him, after _it_ was all over, that the past was the past. She had told him that she was free. That they could _be together._ But he knew he could never be sure if she really was _his_ creature, or if she was still secretly in bed with someone else. To him, there was no sin so unforgivable as betrayal. She was the greatest of sinners. So, Kylo simply assumes the latter, although he has yet to find any proof.

He sets down his glass with a satisfying _clunk_ , his arms now crossed over his chest. “Exactly why are you disturbing me outside of office hours, Ms. Netal?”

She smirks and holds her hands behind her back. She gives him a naughty little squirm. He chooses to ignore it.

“I have some _very_ interesting information for you, sir. It seems your interviewer was playing with the big boys, and had a little too much fun.”

He is reminded of why he was drawn to her. “I see. Was it as we expected?”

He refuses to flinch when she reaches out, and walks her fingers along the lapel of his vest. Kylo quickly catches her offending hand and pulls her away. She is pouting again. He growls as a warning.

“Yes, sir,” she continues, “in fact, I would say better than we expected. What we found was very… quite illustrative.”

Kylo cocks his head, impressed. His tone a little indulgent now. “Oh, was it?”

She nods as she practically purrs with self-satisfaction. Her hand slides up to his shoulder again, fingers dipping into to collar to stroke his neck. He does nothing, and allows her to smirk in triumph.

“Yes, sir. I think you will be very pleased.”

Her eyes lock with his as she cups her other hand, reaches down between his legs and presses against him firmly, only to find he is completely soft. Her hand falters.

Kylo reaches for the last of the whisky, throwing his head back as drains it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and he fixes her with a smug half-grin. His voice as sweet and stinging as honey on a cut lip. “Well done, Bazine. Is that all?”

Her hands fall from his body. They both know that this time, she has been defeated. Her voice is small. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Leave everything you have on my desk.” He leans forward, pecking then brushing his lips against her cheek, letting her feel his smile. She turns away from him.

“Do remember to stay out of my office, Ms. Natel,” he purrs into her ear, nips her earlobe, “you are dismissed.”

She nods, slips quietly away. She held nothing over Kylo Ren anymore.

No one did.


	8. Friday, Onto Saturday

She had told Finn when she got home Friday night after her shift. Finn didn’t believe her at first. He actually laughed, pinching her cheeks as he did so.

“Yeah, good one, Peanut. You’re the hooker and he’s the mega rich businessman.”

Rey swatted Finn’s hands from her face, rubbing the sore from her pinch-reddened cheeks as she ground out. “What are you talking about, Finn?”

Poe cuts in, leaning over the back couch and ignoring the game rerun. He had gotten home at a slightly more reasonable hour, for once. “You know, that movie, Pretty Woman? Big mouth lady and that guy with the gray hair?”

Rey’s blank expression says it all.

Poe is incredulous. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Oh, sweet Lord! I’m sorry - I sometimes forget you had a deprived childhood.” Finn teases.

Rey knew he doesn’t mean it, tries not to feel the barb. But something must have tipped him off, because she found herself in the suffocating circle of his hug, his lips pressed hard against her forehead. She forgave him instantly.

“Be thankful, Rey,” Poe said over Finn’s apology, his attention already back on the game, “it’s my mama’s favorite movie. I’ve seen it a million times.”

Finn’s grin was devious. “Come on, Peanut. Let’s make Poe watch it one million and one times.”

Kylo wasn’t mentioned again.

====================================================

 

So when Rey leaves her bedroom Saturday night, her face made up, her hair curled, wearing heels and a _dress_ , Finn chokes on his snack of Star Wars cereal, milk coming out of his nose. He’s cupping his face, trying not to asphyxiate as he runs to grab a dish towel from the bench and to blow his nose with a loud honk.

“Gross! Finn! And stop eating all the cereal! You’re gonna spoil your dinner.”

Finn is fanning his nose to ease the milk-sting. “You weren’t kidding.”

“About what?”

Finn’s got his ‘fierce’ eyes on. He doesn’t return her smile. “Rey, what the fuck?”

No Peanut, then. This was serious.

“…he’s at _least_ thirty years old, as ugly as a monkey’s taint, and what the hell do you know about him, other than he makes it rain fifties instead of ones?”

“Uh…his name is Kylo Ren?”

Rey’s tone is joking, but it only infuriates Finn.

“WHAT THE HELL KIND OF STUPID NAME IS KYLO FUCKING REN?” Finn throws up his hands. Holds them there for a moment, his eyes closed. He sucks in a deep breath. He only speaks again when he’d calmed down. “Peanut, you’ve seen this guy – what -  twice? Spoken _maybe_ ten words to him…”

“Who are you to talk? You went out with Poe _the day_ you met him at the Corner Coffee.”

“Yeah, but Poe wasn’t some scary, creepy, rich _asshole_ who’s probably slumming it for cheap thrills.”

“Slumming it for cheap thrills? Geez, Finn. Thanks for letting me know what you really think of me.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I think I know _exactly_ what you meant.”

“No. You. DON’T.”

Finn actually stomped his foot. Rey is panting from her outburst. Her purse is creaking in her tight grip; she throws it onto the couch. The two friends glare at each other like enemies. Then, Finn crosses the tiny space between them to gently hold her by her shoulders. He doesn’t let go even though she resists - in the beginning, anyway.

His voice is soft.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, ok? I don’t know _anything_ this guy but I’m already freaked out by him.”

Rey speaks through clenched teeth. “Why?”

“Why? First, he leaves big tips for absolutely no reason. You’ve gotta admit that’s creepy. Then… hell, you were right there, with the water bitch incident. You can’t tell me that he didn’t scare you.”

Rey bites her lip, considers his words. He was right. Kylo _had_ to have some kind of ulterior motive for leaving her fifty-dollar tips. Was he trying to buy her? And he _had_ scared her with the water bitch incident. But she had also felt something else.

She had been turned on. By him, by Kylo Ren.

Finn shakes her gently. “Hello, Rey? We’re having an argument here.”

“Discussion.”

“Huh?”

Rey looks up at her friend. Her hand gently cups his cheek, pecks his other one in a chaste kiss. Her heart is full, overflowing with affection for this high-strung, whiny, pain-in-the-ass boy who is wearing the ugliest t-shirt she’s ever seen because it’s laundry day. Her unlikely guardian angel.

“Finn,” she begins, slowly, “thank you for being such a good friend to me. But you don’t have to worry about me all of the time. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. You helped me with that.”

Finn breaks out into a huge grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I’m never going to stop worry about you, right, Peanut?”

“I know.”

Finn sighs. He looks down at the floor, his hands slide down her arms until he’s swinging them with her hands in his. “I’m sorry I got carried away. Just… message me, alright? Let me know you’re ok.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “Alright, dad.”

A loud shuddering buzz breaks the moment. Rey’s phone shudders across the kitchen table. They both turn to look at the name flashing across the screen.

Kylo Ren.

“He’s here.” Rey says, her heart is already beginning to race. Finn frowns, let’s go of her hands as she goes to answer the phone.

“Hello, Kylo? Yes, I’m ready. I’ll be down in two seconds.”

She is smiling, the biggest, widest smile that Finn has ever seen on her face.

“He’s waiting for me downstairs.”

Rey grabs her discarded purse, stuffs her phone into it. Finn has already opened their stubborn apartment door for her.

She fluffs the ends of her hair. “How do I look, Finn?” She asks, a little nervously, halfway out the door.

Finn's instinct is to reassure her, even if he didn't want her to go. “If I weren’t gay as Christmas, I’d do you.”

She laughs, then she’s climbing down the stairs.

She waves at him as heads through the front gate. She lets it shut behind her with a loud _clang_.

Finn goes to throw out his soggy cereal.


	9. Restaurant Galatina

From the way he styled his long, dark hair, to the selection of his clothes, Kylo Ren had paid more than the usual amount of care in preparing himself for tonight.

He had sent his assistant to his home earlier to collect the items he thought would be suitable. He now stood before the full-length mirrors in his wardrobe, criticizing and critiquing his chosen outfit. He held two silk neckties in his hands, testing their effect on his ensemble, before deciding to abandon ties altogether.

He deemed it inappropriate for tonight.

There were three firm taps against the doorframe. He does not bother to turn and look, because he knows who it is. Although he is fully dressed, his assistant politely averts her eyes.

“You have confirmed my table at the Restaurant Galatina then, Phasma?” He asks. He has flipped up the collar of his shirt, is reaching for a pair of collar stays.

“Yes, sir. The private dining room has been made available, at your leisure. They send their regards.”

Kylo only hums in response. He expects her to leave, she does not.

“Mr. Snoke has also called. He requests the pleasure of your company, after your television appearance on Monday night. I am under the impression he has also asked that Mr Hux be in attendance.”

 “Wonderful.” His sarcasm is subtle enough that goes unnoticed. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Did my father say anything else, Phasma?”

“No, sir. Although…he has been asking me questions about your recent projects.”

That gives him pause. “Usual or unusual questions?”

Phasma never hesitates with her answers. Kylo had ensured that she learned the fate of her predecessor, who thought they could conceal and outsmart him without repercussion. Both fear and loyalty in the right amounts worked better than either in isolation.

“The usual questions, sir. Although Mr Snoke’s showing a greater deal of interest in one particular project. He has been asking a lot about…” 

He cuts her off. He knows which one. He feels as if a black knife stab is at his ribs. “Thank you, Phasma. Is that all?”

Kylo turns down his collar, stares at his reflection. He is complete at last, although any satisfaction he might have gotten had long seeped away with Phasma’s answers.

 “Yes, that’s all, sir.”

“Very well. Good evening, Phasma.”

“Good evening, sir.”

 

====================================================

 

He stares out the window of his car, chin on his fist. He does not see the scene passing before him.

His father’s summons has dampened his mood somewhat. Kylo can only assume his father doubts him, doubts his filial piety, doubts his utter submission, born not because of thin threads of nucleic acid and the accident of biology, but because of free-will. Kylo Ren was devoted to his father, because he was _chosen_ his father.  

His fingers grip his thigh hard enough to hurt and bruise.

The car slows, stops. Kylo doesn’t notice, and is awoken only by the soft pop of the intercom.

It is his driver. “Mr Ren, we have arrived.”

He pulls out his phone.

 

====================================================

 

Rey sees Kylo just outside the front gate of her building, leaning against a big, black car. His breath turns to fog in the cold air. She can see he is shivering, just a little bit. He looks different when he isn’t wearing a suit. He still dresses far better than her though.

He smiles at her, his tiny little smile, his eyes shining. Rey blushes when his eyes trail down her body, then quickly snap back up when he realizes what he was doing. She’s wearing a long coat and is mostly hidden, but she can still see his throat work as he swallows. Rey feels suddenly shy, despite the flush of adrenaline still pulsing from her argument with Finn.

He pushes himself off of the car and opens the door to the back seat. She’s confused for a second. He seems to realize why, quickly enough.

“I have a driver.” He explains softly, almost as if he’s embarrassed.

“Oh…”

Rey takes the hand he offers as she clambers in, sighing to find that the black leather is already warmed. He closes the door for her, goes around to let himself in. Once they are settled, he reaches for a console on the roof of the cabin.

“We are ready to go.”

The response is immediate. “Yes, Mr Ren.”

Rey clutches her purse tighter.

There is silence for a minute.

“Where are we going?”

“You look beautiful.”

They had spoken at the same time. She laughs, from embarrassment as well as from his compliment. He looks away for a moment, then back at her.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says, “I’m taking you to a restaurant in midtown.”

In the three years she’s been here, she has never explored the Coruscant proper beyond the immediate confines of the CU campus. But she knows about the Business District. She looks down at her clothes, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He reaches out to hold her hand, and she’s startled by his warmth. But she accepts it.

“I really do mean it, Rey, you look beautiful tonight.” His earnest tone draws her gaze.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. But if you are worried, I reserved for us a private dining room.” He says gently.

That both makes her relax and feel uncomfortable at the same time. He notices, she can tell.

“What is wrong, Rey?”

She is awed by him. She thinks back to her argument with Finn. She doesn’t want to offend him either. “I’m…I’m just a waitress in a crappy diner, Kylo.”

He seems to like it when she said his name, despite everything else she’d said. He shifts a little closer to her, and she can smell his scent wrap around her. Cloves, she thinks. Spice and smoky wood, darkness.

He speaks to her unspoken concerns. “Rey, if you think anything is too much, if you think you want to put an end this night at any point, I promise won’t stop you.” He gently touches her chin, tips her face up to meet her eyes. “But I sincerely hope that you want to stay.”

She answers before she fully processes what he had said. “I want to stay.”

“Really?”

She nods as he holds her. He smiles, and she thinks he wants to kiss her, but he releases her instead. His fingers interlace with hers readily, as if they had done it a thousand times before. She swears she can hear her heartbeat, and so can he.

 

====================================================

 

The restaurant is located on the seventy-third floor of the Naberrie Tower. It was absolutely beautiful. Creams and gold, gentle lines, and soft, warm, golden light. Kylo was immediately recognized, and fawned over by the ingratiating maître d’ himself.

“Mr Ren,” his lightly accented voice greets, “it is an absolute pleasure to see you, and your guest, if you would kindly follow me. Your table is ready.”

The maître d’ had seemed a little confused by Rey’s appearance. He didn’t cast a judging eye, but she finds herself falling in step behind Kylo, even as he held her hand. They walk through a hidden alcove, away from all the other finely dressed diners.

The maître d throws open a set of ornate double doors with a flourish, and Rey finds herself in a room with a completely different tone to the rest of the restaurant. It is a small space, lending to a more intimate atmosphere, and furnished both luxuriously and comfortably. A large window, reaching from the ceiling to the floor, let in the living silvers and bronzes of Coruscant’s after-dark skyline. As she stepped in, she felt as if she had entered someone’s private domain.

The door closed behind them, and the hum of the restaurant is suddenly gone.

Kylo led her to the table set before the expansive splendor of the city. He pulls out her chair, pushes her in before he moves to sit opposite her. For a moment, she forgets Kylo and gazes out the window.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

She can’t stop smiling at him. “Kylo, I love it.”

He had apparently planned everything already. A quick succession of dishes is brought before her. She is served wine, light and crisp, as well as sweet and heavy, and food with smells, flavors and textures indescribably new and wonderful. She moaned in pleasure at tasting one savory dish, gasping as it melted inexplicably in her mouth and left her wanting more. Kylo watched her, cradling a glass of dark, purple wine in his hand, faced flushed with what could only be described as arousal. She feels an answering throb.  

When they are done, the sky is impossibly black against the defying lights of the city. Kylo wordlessly gets up from his chair, pulls her up and takes her by the hand. He leads her through the alcove, through the lobby of the restaurant, until they stand before the bank of elevators. She can’t stop looking at him.

“Rey,” his voice is low, almost a rumble. He reaches out to touch her face, to brush his thumb across her lips.

“Kylo.” She breaths.

“I live on the ninetieth floor.” He sounds guilty, caught out. Hopeful. His earnestness sends warmth through her belly.

She only nods.

He kisses her then.


	10. Her Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your kind comments and kudos - much appreciated! Enjoy the coming updates!

Kylo’s kiss is unexpectedly soft, sweet, chaste. He doesn’t demand but she still feels desperately needed all the same. When he pulls away, just a little bit, he leaves her breathless and dazed. She feels her awe of him, of them, and of this night returning. She feels his entire body sigh and sink into hers, relinquishing to her his relief in a long, bated breath.

“Kylo…”

His breath is warm. “…I know…”

He reluctantly pulls away a bit more, steadying himself and reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, producing a keycard and sliding it into the control panel. The elevator arrives almost instantly, and with a dull metallic _ding_ and a heavy rumble _,_ the doors open, and the empty car stands waiting. He looks down at her again, his eyes dark and lustful, his eyebrow raised in a wordless question.

She nods again.

He lifts her hand high and with a low chuckle, dancing to music only he hears, he twirls her into the elevator car. Her surprised laughter bubbles up sweetly as she is spun. She ends up her back is flushed against his clothed body, his arm possessive over her belly. She giggles, then moans as he reaches to thread his fingers deep in her hair and tug gently, before placing slow, open mouthed kisses and nibbles along her exposed neck. He positively hums against her skin, presses himself tighter against her. She thinks she can feel him, there, and she blushes even deeper.

A dull _dun-don,_ and the elevator doors open directly into a vast, expansive room. She notices none of the details of his home. She is distracted when he suddenly swoops down with a playful growl, and snatches her up like a dragon-of-old, carries her bridal style through the dimly lit expanse. She weighs nothing to him.

He sets her down on the floor in front of his sprawling, slate-gray bed. Allows her to pull him down for a kiss, before he extracts himself from her grasp. She writhes as his hands fall to her shoulder, slip down to ghost the clothed swell of her breast. His fingers slide under the fabric of her jacket to push it off her shoulders. It pools heavily at her feet. She allows him to slowly undress her, leaving a trail of nips, licks and kisses in his wake. With her completely undressed before him, he toes off his shoes, then crowds her until she lies back onto the bed.

His eyes are roiling with emotions she can’t place. She is completely bared, and for the first time in her life, she doesn’t feel at all ashamed to be so in another’s presence.

She watches as he palms himself though his pants when she parts her legs for him. The most pathetic whine escapes his lips as he sees her exposed for the first time. She feels wetness slide from her, a slow leak that leaves a sticky trail along her skin. He whimpers at the sight and he desperately grips himself tighter, digging in with his nails. He hisses, and she realizes his grip is too harsh to be pleasurable. He is trying to regain control.

Her clit throbs and begs to be touched. She resists the urge, willing to forgo just to watch him break apart without laying a finger on her.

He eventually let’s go of himself, shrugs off his jacket, removes his belt, lets it drop from where he stands. The mattress dips as he places a knee on it.

He is looking between her legs hungrily when he speaks, actually licks his lips and swallows hard. He sounded tortured. “Rey, please,  can I…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, _thank you...”_

She is encouraged to shift higher up on the bed, to spread her legs wider in order to give his big, broad body every inch she can spare. He doesn’t bother with teasing, he meets her eyes only once, before his head drops to her inner thighs and he nuzzles her soft skin. He groans with his entire body when he loudly inhales her arousal.

“Rey, you smell so good,” he growls, “I want to bathe in you forever.” Then, he fills his mouth with her skin, and sucks.

“Oh…fuck!”

Rey can’t stop the hard hip-buck against his face. It doesn’t throw him off, but prompts him to hold her still as he licks and sucks and fucks her with his mouth, filling the room with the obscene sounds. Her fingers thread through his hair, scratching his scalp before she tugs him like they’re reins. He hums and purrs against her, grinding his pelvis against the edge of the bed in time with his tongue. She looks down at him as she feels herself begin to peak, his eyes closed as he suckles and swipes wetly at her clit. As if he feels her stare, he lazily opens one of his eyes, sucks hard, then slowly rasps the flat of his tongue along her hard, exposed clit. The intense pleasure sparkles brightly, and she bursts into orgasm with a shout and a cry.

When she comes down, bones heavy and muscles weak, he is kneeling between her legs, hand tenderly warming her mound, looking mussed and too self-satisfied.

She can’t imagine what she looks like.

“What the fuck was that, Kylo?” She demands, her throat feeling harsh. She must have been screaming.

His smirk is cocky. She has never seen that expression on his face before. It makes the heat rise again.

“You are being entirely too vulgar, Rey.” He coos. He moves to hover over her, his hand drifting to untuck his shirt, unbuttons his fly. “But I _like_ it.”


	11. Pain, Despair

Rey.

He has consumed her, as she has consumed him, and she is all he can taste now.  When she had come, he had wiped his mouth clean with his fingers, had sucked every drop of her from the creases of his skin. She has filled his head, his chest, his groin and still he is not satisfied. He feels an overwhelming need to _kiss_ her.

A disturbed feeling tries to nudge its way – pierce, like a budding shoot - into his consciousness. No. _No._ That is not what this is. Kylo Ren is a simply a man who takes what he wants. This is _taking_.

He crawls onto the bed and covers her body entirely; his arms caging her, fitting his clothed cock at the juncture of her thighs. The feel of her heat, even through his layers of clothes, sends shivers down his spine.

Kiss her.

But she is far too short for him. To reach her lips, he must contort himself. But the discomfort can be ignored. The reward is great enough. Her soft lips are still sweet from the dessert wine. Her wetness will ruin the fabric of his trousers, but he cannot bring himself to care.

Now. Now.

Kylo reaches between them, and her pussy wets the back of his shaky hand as tries to free his painfully hard cock. He is harder than he has ever been before, and he knows he can only find satisfaction in the soft, warm grip of her sex.

So close.

His desperation breaks when he feels her tug at the collar of his shirt, fumble with the buttons at his neck. He realizes her intention and a sharp panic rises. _No._ He resists her attempt to undress him, quickly pining her hands beneath his.

Then her voice cuts through with a plea.

 “Kylo, please, I need to feel your skin.”

Kylo growls, bucks himself up hard against her, to punish her for thwarting him yet again. That was a mistake. His body is shuddering, and he masters the urge to roar out his frustration. She wants to feel his skin, then fine. He leans down to whisper in her ear, readies himself to pull away. “Wait. I have to turn off the lights…”

She is wrapping her legs around his waist as she begs. “No, please. I need to see you.”

She has begun rolling against his desperate cock. Kylo can either stop his body from shuddering or stop his tears of frustration. He squeezes his eyes firmly shut.

In the next instant, he is no longer on top. He is beneath her, being straddled. He is stunned, because he cannot quite remember how that had happened. His thoughts are extinguished when she grinds down on him, hard and fast through the placket of his trousers.

Kylo is moaning like a bitch in heat and he hates himself. This is not what he had wanted. He turns his head away from her, because he is helpless against the pleasure she forces onto his cock, winding him and taking away his fight. He presses back harder into the pillows, and grasps her thighs. He thrusts with her to chase the feeling.

It is only when her hips suddenly stop, that he becomes aware of cold air hitting his sternum. He is startled, and he grasps her traitorous hands. He can feel her small bones crunch in protest, but cannot pay mind to that now.

It was too late. She is already gasping in shock, and she has not seen the worst. He meets her gaze, and he cannot control the weakness in his voice. Three words.

“Please, Rey. Don’t.”

Kylo registers the pain in her gaze, and has the sense to release her hands. He has hurt her. He disgusts her. She no longer wants him.

He will not lie here for that. He moves to raise himself up on his elbows, but she pushes him back down. She slides against him again. She is slower this time, her eyes holding his. His head is falling back, his eyes flutter. It has been a long time since he has been controlled in this way by another…

He has no fight in him when she begins her task again. Paralyzed by cold fear and hot shame, he braces himself for her inevitable reaction.

The front panels of his shirt are fully opened.

She knows now. Despite her previous stimulation, he feels his useless cock wilt.

He sees in his mind’s eye the marks – the destruction - left by others on his body. The hateful slashes, old and deep. The six puckered, ugly wounds on his side and on his chest that had narrowly missed his heart but had pierced and collapsed his left lung, had torn permanent holes inside his body.

He is wounded. Broken. Ugly.

He is so, so ashamed, and goes to draw his shirt back over him, to shrink and hide away. He knows he has lost her now. He can hear his father’s voice, scathing him when he was still no more than a boy. He can hear Bazine’s taunts as he lay dying at her feet. Sees the face of the _hateful_ man who sired him. The cold-hearted bitch who abandoned him. He has succumbed to weakness.

He wants to cry, because he already _knew_ Rey made him weak. He is mourning for impending loss. He feels hollow and bereft inside.

But she doesn’t move. He looks up, and her eyes are brimming with unshed tears now. It is too much for him.

“Oh, _Kylo_.”

The sound of her voice breaks him.

It is her turn to push his hands away, to pry the fabric aside until it frames his ruined torso. He doesn’t quite know what she means, but there is a pleading look in her eyes. Kylo finds himself under her control again but he is so afraid, he cannot move.

She is…kissing him. Three kisses for each of the wounds on his chest. She follows the vicious diagonal slash that trails from his shoulder to his hip. Her fingers are following the path set by her lips, setting alight a familiar barrage of numbness and pain, tiny needle-pricks of sensation that spark.

He lets her do as she wills.

Her hand finds him through his trousers, she unzips him, reaches in. He feels fresh shame as she pulls his messy, limp cock from his pants, but she doesn’t seem to care. She wraps her delicate fist around him, spreading _his_ wetness before she pumps him. His cock fills again.

He cries as she quickens her pace, when she lightly digs her thumb into his slit. His mind blanks when he feels wet warmth envelop him, pushing into his cock unbearable pleasure between his legs and up his spine and in a tingling trail along the inside of his legs and the soles of his feet. He is literally being fucked out of his mind.

His helpless cock sears, his balls boil and his orgasm hurts. He is frightened because he cannot seem to stop cumming.

His vision whites out before it goes to black.

The last thought on his mind was of Rey.

====================================================

When Kylo awakens, he does so with a start, uncertain how long he has slept for. He finds he is pinned to the bed, and when he looks down, he sees that Rey is laying on his chest, peering up at his face. She is smiling at him, a tender, sweet smile that makes him feel indulged, spoiled…wanted.

“Relax, Kylo,” she soothes tracing patterns on his ruined skin, “you were only out for a few minutes.”

It did not feel like a few minutes.

He notices immediately that his genitals hang out from his opened trousers, that his disgustingly scarred chest is still uncovered, and that is what upsets him. He shifts, untangles her from his body despite her protests. He is desperate to hide his torso again, turning his back to her to do so. He ignores the burning sensation he feels - he knows that she is staring at him.

His trousers are completely ruined. The evidence of their pleasure has soaked within and without fabric. For some reason, that is what reignites and rankles the fire within him.

When she speaks, she is unsure. “Kylo?”

He does not answer her.

 “Kylo?”

Her voice this time is sharper, and he winces. She feels her hands on his shoulders again. He feels the urge to sink back into her embrace, to kiss her and please her as he had done mere moments before. It takes a considerable amount of effort to resist his desire for her.

He knows for certain now he had fooled himself into thinking that he can control himself around her. If he allows this to continue, the lessons are unlearned and he will fall again. He reaches to touch the three bullet wounds on his chest. He remembers the hotness of the iron, the sharpness of the stone ballast against his face, the icy water that diluted his blood and threatened to pull him into Hell. Bazine’s laughter rings in his ears like a shot in the dark. He will not survive death a third time.

He makes the decision then. No more. She must be excised, a cold sterile cut to cleave the poison and keep the pure. It is the only way. He straightens his back. His control returns and he is truly Kylo Ren, again. He shakes her off of him.

“Get dressed, I will call the car.”

“What?”

“Get dressed. I will call the car.” He is harsher this time.

He gets up, pads across the bedroom into his walk-in wardrobe. She is following him, she is naked under the long coat that she’d hastily pulled on, and she is upset. He ignores the feeling it stirs in his chest.

“Kylo? Kylo?”

Ignore her. Ignore her.

“Kylo? Is because I took your shirt off?”

Kylo takes in a sharp breath, despite himself. He purposefully leaves the closet door opened to shield himself from her as he slides into a clean shirt, a fresh pair of pants. He refuses to meet her eyes, brushing passed her to sit at the ottoman to the side of his bedroom.

He pulls on a new pair of socks, and begins to slip his feet into his shoes.

“Kylo. Is this because I took your shirt off…?”

“Yes!” He barks at her, surprising even himself that he had admitted even that much. He is already weakening again. He must make her leave.

“Then can we… I don’t know… talk about it?”

“No.” He stands up now that his shoes are tied. He does not bother to check himself in the mirror. “I will wait for you at the elevator.”

He actually slammed the door to his bedroom, shutting her in it.

What on this great green earth?

She is numb when she begins to pull on her underwear, her dress, her shoes, the clothes that he had so gently and passionately taken her out of before. She may not know what she had expected from tonight, but she knows for certain she did not expect this.

The old gnawing feeling is back.

He doesn’t look at her or talk or touch her at all on the elevator ride down to the main atrium. Rey recognizes some of staff manning the desk. She thinks they recognize her. She frets to think they knows what she and Kylo had been doing.

She can barely keep up with him.

His car is already waiting, and he pulls open the door with startling violence. He grabs her arm, firmly but not enough to hurt her, and seems almost too eager to push her into it. He doesn’t get in with her. As he goes to close the door, she grabs his hand. A silent plea on her face.

When he looks at her, his soulful eyes waver and water for just a moment. The very next, they are cold and indifferent. Rey did not see the instant the change took place and is hit by the realization that the man before her is a complete stranger.

He pries her from him, and slams the car door in her face. She feels each of his two loud knocks on the trunk of the car, making it shake with his strength. The car starts, and she watches as she is being driven away from Kylo.

He simply turned on his heel and strode straight back into the atrium.

 

====================================================

 

The driver opens her car door when she is outside her building. He stands there for a long time out in the cold. At last, he gently prompts her.

“Miss? We’ve arrived.”

She looks up. Her eyes are dry, but she is on the verge of tears. “Thank you…”

He smiles at her with sympathy and offers her a gloved hand, helps her out of the car. She doesn’t look as he walks around the vehicle and climbs back into the driver’s seat. The car _vrooms_ as it starts, and pulls out onto the empty street.

The front gate feels especially heavy tonight, the climb up the stairs is long. She winces with each step because she can still feel the stickiness of his semen and the pain left by his ardor between her legs.

The door opens before she even has her keys out. Finn stares at her wide-eyes.

Poe is at the kitchen table, glasses on, tapping on his laptop.

“Hey, Pretty Woman. You’re home early.” Poe grins, pulling them from his face, waggling his eyebrows. “How’d it go with the BFG?”

It is then that Rey, for the first time since that desperate, lonely night in Jakku, when she had sworn she had shed her last tear, collapses into the tight embrace of her dearest friend, and falls with him onto the floor, soaking his hideous shirt with a new ugly pattern.

Poe can only set his glasses down, and stare helplessly as Rey fell apart.

Outside, Late Autumn yields its first flurry of unseasonable snow.


	12. The Morning After

_She was born on the edge of a great, wide desert._

_Her mother, as a child, had once disappeared into it for three days. Everyone thought she was dead. Her grandmother, in her grief, did not eat nor drink nor sleep. For three days, she had prayed and paced the uneven floors of their tiny house._

_On the fourth day, her mother emerged, exhausted, lips parched, throat dry, but she was alive, and everyone rejoiced._

_She was called a miracle child._

_Someone took a photo of her grandmother crying happy tears to have her daughter safe in her arms once more. A moment in time frozen with the caption ‘miracle child home again.’_

_Her Poppy, Ben, kept that story alive, in the form of a creased, yellowed newspaper clipping he had pasted into a big, brown book, entitled ‘memories.’ It contained all of the earthly reminders of the woman who had given birth to Rey, and who had died doing so._

_When the men in the blue hard-hats and the orange vests came, they threw many of Poppy’s things into a great, big fire. One of them was the memory book._

_She had returned too late to save it._

_Rey, had never really known her mother while she was still alive. But it was on that day that she watched her mother die, her ashes curling up, up into the gradient blue of the endless Jakku sky._

_She missed the firm warmth of Poppy’s reassuring hands, felt a deep, gnawing pain grow beneath the tearless numb she had wrapped herself in._

_And she finally realized she was truly alone._

====================================================

Rey woke up still wearing the dress she had worn for Kylo. She feels a solid heat at her back, and turns to find Finn asleep, face mashed against the wall, hugging a pillow he must have stolen from her at some point during the night. At the foot of her bed, Poe is snoring on her desk chair, chin on his chest, his arms crossed and his legs sticking out.

Her bedroom is the one without the window, so she can’t quite tell what the time is.

She quietly slides off the small, single bed and pulls the spare blanket out from under Finn’s feet and carefully drapes it over Poe. She doesn’t close her bedroom door all the way when pads barefoot out into the biting cool of the still kitchen.

Her purse is still on the floor.

Picking it up, she taps to rouse her phone. Thirty percent battery left, 5.47 am, no notifications.

She puts the phone back in her purse, the purse on the kitchen table.

There weren’t many words spoken last night, other than a broken, sobbed recount of how Kylo turned her out. She watched Finn breathe fire, becoming far too agitated and storming off into his bedroom with a slam, leaving Poe to pick up the pieces.

She is all cried out now.  

Rey stares at her swollen face, her red-rimmed, dark-circled eyes, and she thinks of Kylo; when she finally held him in her hand, tears fell from the corners of his eyes. They had kept falling when she took him inside of her and when he came apart too quickly beneath her. He was a broken mess, his face contorted, his scarred body writhing. She remembered thinking at that moment, _can’t you see you’re beautiful too?_

His weak plea cuts through like a knife.

_Please, Rey. Don’t._

Rey turns from the mirror, drops her dress and twist the shower taps. The pipe in the wall starts banging, and the shower begins sputtering, spewing to a start.

She steps in, closing the frosted glass door behind her, and begins the task of washing the remnants of Kylo from her skin.

 

 


	13. Honorable Senators and Council Members

“Good morning.”

And…nothing.

Luke could almost feel the ooze of contempt radiating towards him. Luke watched his fellow council member’s overly-tailored back retreat away.

Luke was used to the casual dismissal of his fellow council members. He was the odd little hermit professor from a small town far, far away who suddenly cracked into their sacred Coruscant City Hall. But for Luke to be outright _ignored_ was something else altogether. Over the last few weeks, he had been _suspecting_ something was different, but now he _downright_ _knew_ \- he just didn’t quite know what that _something_ was.

Luke wasn’t intentionally the sneaky type.

He found himself sneaking as he followed the Senate District council member, slowing his pace behind as they turned a corner and entered their office suite. He could hear the council member barking orders.

“…and hold all calls, cancel all afternoon appointments. I have somewhere to be. Keep it off the official schedule.”

As Luke peered in the office, the council member’s frumpy assistant appeared, shot him a dirty look and pointedly closed the door in his face. Yes, something _was_ very different.

He continued on his way, lost in thought as he headed towards his own office further down the hall.

His own assistant looked up from her computer with a warm smile. Luke felt as if his heart just did a little burp.

“Good morning, Mara.”

“Good morning, council member.”

Luke gently set down one of take-out cups he was holding onto the corner of her desk. “Here you go – nonfat latte, one sugar.”

She smiled appreciatively.

“That’s very sweet of you, council member. But I hope you aren’t trying to say anything my coffee-making skills.”

Luke felt warm from his fingers to his toes. “Never,” he swore. He took a sip of his own tea as he headed into his office. As he was cracking open the door, he heard Mara get up from her seat. He set down his worn leather briefcase, and reached into his tweed jacket and pulled out his reading glasses to slide onto his nose.

“Is my schedule looking scary enough for you, Mara?” He asked lightly, picking up a memo from one of the stacks of paper on his desk.

Mara was swiping at the tablet on her arm. “Actually, it’s mostly empty, council member.”

Luke was stunned, his jaw actually dropped. “But…can I see…?”

Mara turned her tablet towards him, her index and thumb making motions like a crab’s claw. “Pinch it to zoom in,” she said.

Once, Mara had laughed saying that he was an old fuddy-duddy. Luke had joked she was no spring chicken either. Luke regretted it as soon as he saw Mara’s face fall. Had he been the kind of man to do so, he would have apologized with flowers, but instead Luke had simply allowed the joke to fizzle out until it was forgotten.

Luke dropped the memo on his desk, and taking the tablet from her hands, did as she had instructed.

Empty. Just as she’d said.

“Didn’t we have these meetings scheduled last week? What happened?”

“I’m not sure, council member.” Mara said, gently, “voicemail was full when I arrived this morning. All of them were cancellations from your colleagues.”

Ignoring Mara’s disapproving tsk, Luke casually flung the tablet onto his desk. He sank heavily back into his chair, then slowly pulled his reading glasses off his face to pinch at the bridge of his nose. His question, rhetorical, was directed to nothing but air. “What is _going on_?”

====================================================

_“What…is…going…ON?”_

_“Mr Hux. Mr Ren is very busy. If you need a private meeting, I can add you to his schedule later…”_

_“Fuck his schedule! And fuck Mr Ren! Let me in, I’m the fucking EVP of Finance and…”_

_“Please stand back, Mr Hux, or I will personally escort you out!”_

_“You wouldn’t dare…”_

Kylo had stopped poring over the draft blueprints and architect’s impressions to listen to the snapping and snarling outside of his office. It had somewhat amused him, but now that the confrontation appeared to be drawing to its conclusion, he reaches out a long finger, and pressed a button on the intercom.

“It’s alright, Phasma. Let Armitage in.”

The voice that came back, normally cool and calm, held an edge of irritation. “Yes, sir.”

Kylo resumed his previous posture, leaning over his desk with his arms braced wide. His office had sliding doors, meaning that they could not be slammed open, but Armitage still entered as if he were a tiny tornado. His angry strides lost their intended impact as he crossed the vast space between the doors and Kylo’s desk.

“Kylo! What the _fuck_ is happening down in the conference room? There at least forty city and Senate officials waiting in there right now.”

Kylo straightened up. Lifted his sleeve to note the time. He had summoned them in no more than a few hours ago. He was pleased they had gathered so quickly. “It seems they have arrived ahead of schedule.”

“Ahead of _what_?”

Kylo finally turned to eye Armitage. He watched as realization dawned on the red-headed imp.

“You don’t mean… no…”

Kylo barely nods. “Yes.”

“Really? You mean to do that _today_? I thought that you were going talk to Father first and…”

Kylo was on the move and no longer listening. He abandoned his desk, retrieved suit jacket from where it hung and shrugged it on as he strode out of his office, his brother trailing behind. He went to stand before the elevator, fixing his cuffs so that they fell below his jacket sleeves, before buttoning it closed. Phasma had already gathered all the necessary documents and was standing beside him.

When the elevator arrived, Armitage squeezed in first. Kylo, irritated, nonetheless chose to ignore him. He looked up, watching as the elevator display panel dutifully scrolled off descending numbers.

“My department has only just completed the risk assessment and you are already lodging a proposal?” Armitage hissed.

“I am merely gauging their interest.”

“Have you even _read_ my assessment?”

Kylo has. But even before he read it, he already knew the risks. But it was Father, all those years ago, who had given Kylo Ren purpose. There could be no price that he was unwilling to pay. His brother will never understand. Thus, he chooses not to answer.

Armitage does not take well to his silence.

“Kylo. You don’t have the authority to do this. You haven’t even called a meeting before the full board.”

At that absurdity, Kylo rumbles a dark laugh. “I _am_ the board.”

Armitage was seething before. Now, he hisses and sparks like a livewire with its casing split.  “ _No_ , no. You are only the _Acting_ President. Father has only _temporarily_ appointed you to represent him on the board. If you pull a stunt like this, I swear you will be representing a lot less. Wait until Father hears about it, he will…”

Kylo finds that, of late, he is remarkably short on patience. Armitage’s pettiness and sourness are unbearable. His smugness must be addressed.

Kylo strikes quickly.

He shot out an arm to grab a fistful of Armitage’s tie, then callously shoved him - hard. Armitage collided with a sickening smack against the wall, juddering the elevator. While his brother stumbled to right himself, Kylo reared up on him, snarling as he caged the slightly shorter man in with his much larger, broader body.

When Armitage looked up, his expression was one of shock and utter terror.

Kylo had never struck his adopted brother before. But there was something immensely satisfying about it, on a primal level, to physically dominate him. To remind him of his place. He wonders if it might become a new habit.

Kylo’s voice is a low growl. “For your sake, Armitage, I suggest you _desist_.”

Cowed, Armitage could only nod.

Kylo pulled back slowly, ignoring Armitage as he slumped against the wall, panting. Kylo’s gaze returned to the panel, he fixed his cuffs once more.

Armitage was shaking as he pushed himself up from the wall, face red with humiliation. His hands could not stop trembling as he tried to straighten his tie, push his shock of sweaty red hair back from his forehead. He wiped his palms down his front.

His next snipe was weak as a whimper from a wounded animal. “Do…do not let your personal interests interfere with the interests of the company, Kylo.”

No, not a snipe, then. He was pleading.

Kylo only growled. From the corner of his eye, he could see Phasma mask a snicker.

The elevator doors opened.

Flanked by his assistant and his brother, Kylo Ren strode forth boldly. He could see that the conference room – encased entirely by large glass windows – was stuffed full of greedy, milk-fattened dignitaries, partaking freely in his hospitality.

The door to the conference room was opened for him, and rather than shaking hands, slapping backs and asking after families, Kylo assumed his rightful place at the head of the long, dark-wood table.

He cast his gaze across the sea of faces, waited as they fell silent one by one.

He pulled the microphone closer.

Into the hush, he released the seed of an idea that had rooted in his mind almost ten years ago.

“The heart of the Republic is dying,” he began, “and I am its savior.”

He could feel the room was stunned. Yes, this is what he wanted.

“Honorable Senators and Council Members, let me talk to you about our plans for Takodana…”

 


End file.
